Primrose Everdeen In The Games- Part 1-3
by District4VictorRebel
Summary: I often wondered "What if Katniss never volunteered for Prim?". Then, I soon wanted to write about it and make my thoughts a reality. Please enjoy and comment what I can work on. I don't take affence to anything, so don't be scaried to not give me the truth.
1. Chapter 1

**PART 1**

Effie has called my name. It should have been close to impossible. My name is only in there once. If Katniss had been right about how I wouldn't be picked, then why must I be the one walking up the isle towards my death? I must walk toward the scary women in the powdered wig, who bends her index finger, beckoning me. I shiver as I walk, tucking in my shirt into my skirt. "Tuck your tail in, Little Duck." I recall my sister laughing. Her sweet voice, how I wish she were here to save me. Why must she be in the woods, why couldn't she just keep track of time. When did Gale become more important than me?

Effie smilies at me, an evil grin of pleasure. I walk onto the stage, looking at the hungover Victor sitting on a chair. He won the 50th by outsmarting everyone, his name is Haymitch, I believe. He looks at me with blood shot eyes. He meets my gaze and looks away. He shakes his head, running his hand through his greasy hair, and muttering to himself. Effie speaks the name of the male tribute, "Peeta Mellark." her voice echoes. the boy section all turn their heads to face a blonde haired boy. His shocker face is splattered across the screens, his face is being registered for the cameras. Capitol citizens will watch his reaction, will see how he wants to cry. They'll laugh, not realizing he might be dead in the next weel.

I look at Haymitch again, his eyes are shut, but he still mutters to himself. Before he could open his eyes, I look away. I don't want to see the revolting pity in his eyes. He will be the one leading me into my death. "And may the odds be ever in your favor." I hear Effie close. The Reaping has ended. I have been reaped. The Prim Reaper has done its bidding. Effie and Haymitch walk us into the Justice Building, where we are put into small rooms. The rooms look like jail cells, there are even bars on the windows. This is meant to contain and torture, nothing more, nothing less. Here, people will visit me for not even a minute, to cry, and tell me to try and win. Do they really think a 12 year old will be able to win? It's impossible when the odds stacked against me are District Careers who have been training to wipe out scrawny people, like me, ever since they could walk. My door opens, its Mr. Mellark. He holds a container of cookies and hugs me without permission. "Oh Prim. Oh, sweet, sweet, Prim. You didn't deserve this." He strokes my blonde braids and keeps me in his arms until a Peackeeper comes.

When Mr. Mellark pulls away from me, he hands me the cookies, and whispers into my ear, "Trust Peeta." The door shuts, leaving me alone. Peeta? The other male tribute? Why must I trust him? He and I will be fighting to get back home, why must I treat an enemy like a friend? I set myself down on the chair they've set up in the room. I have my head in my hands, wishing I could be walking back home now. Wishing my heart would stop beating out of my chest, that my finger would stop trembling, wishing the tears would stop rolling. The door opens again, my mother. I run towards her, crying even more, letting all my worries and grief onto her shirt. She strokes me hair also, her fingers trembling even more than mine. "Prim, sweetie..." She drifts, she can't finish her sentence. Who could think straight in this situation? The words in my head aren't even close to stringing together, I wonder what mom is thinking. She's probably imagining with terror as she watches her daughter get slaughtered by another tribute. I let more tears roll, staining her shirt one by one.

"Miss" says a rough voice of the peacekeeper. "Miss!" he says again. "Mrs. Everdeen, you need to go, now." My mothers fingers slowly move off my body, her arms peel off my shaking body. She looks into my eyes, her blue watching mine, and kisses my forehead. "I love you, Prim." "I love you, Mommy." The words I speak send her into a full wave of shock that floods her eyes. She kisses my forehead again and walks through the doors. The slam of the door echoes through the room, through my mind, over and over again. I am alone. I will be for a while. Until I greet Father at the gates.

**PART 2**

We are loaded onto the sleek metal train without a second thought. The warm air of the train spalshes on us, pleasing smilies grow. I take in a breath as I open my eyes to the glory inside the train. The box cars are full of food and expensive furniture, every where I looked there was something shiny or captivating. I walk to a lamp and let my figners run down the smooth glass. "We want to make sure that you're confortable while traveling to the Capitol." I hear Effie speak, leading us to our seats. "Even if it may be just for a little while." I snap my eyes at Effie. It was a back handed compliment, I knew it, and she did too. Just because she didn't like the district she was placed in to choose the reaping, doesn't mean she can take it out on us. We're already going to die. I sit myself on the soft fluffed couch, my body sinking a few inches into the stuffing. Peeta does the same, I watch as he sinks also, I laugh a little. He looks at me, the first time I've really made eye contact with him. "Out of all the girls to get picked...I never would have expected you, Prim." He speaks softly and slowly.

"That's what I was thinking also." I say, looking away from his beautiful blue eyes. Peeta rubs my back. He has soft hands, I can feel them through the shirt fabric. He takes his hand away and walks to the dining table full of pastries. He doesn't pick one up, he just looks at them. The beautiful frosting designs and colors captivate him. He lets out a long sigh, a longing sigh. I remember how he decorated the cakes at his families shop, I remember walking past the store window and seeing him decorate with a huge smile on his face. He must miss the shop dreadfully. A silence comes. Peeta has his back still toward me, I let myself tell him whats on my mind. "Your father told me to trust you."

Peeta turns to me, his face is undecided, he doesn't know what to think, like me. I let the words float into the air then settle onto the ground. They don't hang or make the air stiff and awkward. He knods, letting me speak again. "Should I?" The simple sentence carries more weight than the one before it. Yet it floats and stings the air. A sour smell lingers. Peeta goes back to looking at the cakes, then picks up one. It's orange, a soft orange. "I don't know." he says, bitting into the mini cake.

The doors open and Haymitch walks into the room. Never before had I noticed the lingering smell of alcohol on his skin, his droopy sag of his shoulders, the way his feet trudge. He goes to the table with alcohol bottles and pours a pink liquid into his glass. He sips as he walks to me, sitting in the chair across from me. He must have gotten over the fact that he pities me, since now he can make eye contact with me, and not look away.

"What are your plans?" I ask him. He is our mentor, of course, he should have a plan, he is our mentor after all.

"Stay Alive." he sips another drink, the pink staining his lips. I squint my eyes at him, starting to get annoyed at him. Peeta comes over and sits next to me.

"Seriously, that's all you have to say for us? Stay alive?" Peeta asks, clenching his teeth so hard that I can feel it. All Haymitch does to reply is knod his head and drink more. With anger, Peeta smacks the drink out from Haymitch's hand. The glass shatters on the tile floor, the pink liquid seeping into the cracks, and crawling. Haymitch snaps his eyes at Peeta, "What a waste of a glass." he speaks through his teeth. Both of them have stood, shoving their faces into each others. Peeta is taller than Haymitch, he easily looks down upon him.

"Go clean that up, Tribute."

''Make me." Peeta snarles.

I get up and push myself between them. "Stop it! Both of you!" I cry, wedging my tiny body to seperate them. Peeta looks at me with his soft blue eyes, he now has guilt flooding in them. He knows he has done wrong when I have to tell him to quit. Peeta sits down and sets his chin into his hands. I snap my eyes at Haymitch, he snarles at me with his eyes, I mimic the look. Haymitch lets out a sigh of failure and sets himself back onto his chair. "I'm going to my room." Peeta says after a moment of silence. Without a second to spare, Peeta bolts from the train cart, onto the next. Leaving Haymitch and I alone. Haymitch has gotten another glass of the pink liquid, sipping it more often than the one before. He doesn't make eye contact with me now, the pity has come back. As if me seperating them had triggered a sensitivity towards me. "You pity me." I speak, the words sharp in the thin air.

"Why do you say that?" Haymitch almost whispers, trying to cover up his words with the alcohol.

"You couldn't make eye contact with me, at the Reaping, or here. I know I am little, I know I may die, but you pitting me doesn't make it any better."

"You aren't going to die. Not while I can help it."

**PART 3**

"Now why would you do that?" I ask, my voice shaking

"Why wouldn't I? Peeta would want the same thing. You are the one we are concerned about."

"Because I have no chances."

"Because you're worth it." Haymitch corrects me, almost snapping. He lets out a breath then sips another drink of the alcohol. "Tomorrow, the parade will go on. That is your chance for everyone to look at you and pity you."

"I don't want them to pity me!" I scream

"You'll have to let them, if you want to live!" he screams back, standing out of his chair. He paces back and forth, running his hand through his hair. Back and forth, like a mad man, back and forth, back and forth. "Why...why are you doing this?" I ask, almost silent. Haymitch snaps his head at me, then walks to me, kneeling next to me. He sets his hand on my knee and looks me straight into my eyes.

"You are worth saving." "Why?" my question silences him. Haymitch looks away at me, gets up, and looks out the window. He shakes his head, as if trying to shoo away a bad dream, but it keeps coming back. Without looking at me, he starts to speak quietly, then grows louder with a shaking tone.

"When I was reaped in the 50th Hunger Games, it was a Quarter Quell, making it extra special. Instead of 24 tributes, there was 48. Instead of one boys and one girls from each district, it was two each. The bets were bigger, the sponserships were mass shipped, the odds were higher than ever. In that arena, I allied with a girl named Maysilee Donner. She was tweleve, like you. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, like you. When I saw you going up the steps for the Reaping...It was like seeing Maysilee all over again...I had to tell myself that you weren't her, but everyime I looked at you, I see her smile and hear her laugh..."

I see a tear start to roll down Haymitchs cheek. I get up and stand on my tip toes to wipe the tear away. Haymitch doesn't look at me, he turns his head away slightly. Disgusted that I'm seeing him like this.

"You don't need to tell me anymore. You see the girl you loved, in me. You want to have a second chance of saving her...I understand." I peck Haymitch on the cheek. I turn away and walk to the exit of the train cart. I look back at Haymitch, he finishes the remaining pink liquid in the glass, and watches out the window. "Haymitch?" I ask, my voice echoing in the still air. Haymitch turns slowly toward me, his eyes stained red now.

"Yes, Prim?" his voice shakes.

"Maysilee would have been lucky to have you."


	2. Chapter 2

**PART 4**

The Capitol is pure amazing. Stone buildings tower over the train, as if we were an ant. Giant screens are show cased over streets and on top of buildings, showing the reapings. As the train passes, I see glimpses of the soon to be Tributes. From District 1, a tall skinny man, around six foot, who had muscle tone. Brown hair and green eyes, and looked to be about 17. The girl tribute was beautiful, with blonde hair, and green eyes. She smiled as she came upon the Reaping stage. It's always the Districts next to the Capitol that love to go into the arena, thinking its a privilege to reprsent their District. Some even volunteer for the place of a tribute. If Katniss was present during the Reaping, she probably would have volunteered to save me.

I turn away from the window of the train, trying to blink away the tears. I think maybe it has finally settled inside me that I won't see my sister again. The fact that I won't be returning home and that I will be faced with a gruesome death has struck me like a lightning bolt. "You okay, Prim?" I hear Peeta's gentle voice ask. I look at him, and without controlling a single motion, I break down. Sobbing and blobbering uncontrollably. Peeta runs over to me and raps his arms around me, securing me. I sob, staining his gray shirt with my grief. He strokes my hair like his father did in the Justice Building. His fingers tremble, is he scared also? Is he hidding the tears so that he can comfort mine?

The room becomes dark, and I hear the echoing of the train screeching onto the track. The train has pulled into the station, I believe. Peeta takes his hands onto my shoulders and pulls me away from his chest, "Would seeing colorfull freaks cheer you up?" he asks with a smile. I knod. Peeta picks me up, swinging me into his arms, and carries me to the window. The train station is packed full of Captiol citizens of every imaginable color. They stand, pressed up against the railing that stops them from going into the train. They wave and have huge smilies on their faces, they're excited to have us here. Peeta waves back, mimicking their smile. I look at him, questioning his act. I thought he hated this as much as I did. Peeta turns his head to me, stopping his waving for a second.

"They're our sponsers. Might as well have them think we're nice." It clicks into my head, and I start to wave also. I must impress to survive, it's the way we must play. Effie walks into the cart room, "We're going to leave the train now, its 9 o'clock, perfectly on time." She smilies proudly, then shows us the exit door into the train station. Peeta sets me down, my shoes click on the tile floor. Peeta follows me as I walk out of the doors and onto the stone floor off the station.

''Come along now." Effie says, taking my hand and leading us into a car. I go in first, then Effie, and followed by Peeta. The seats are softer than the ones in the train, it must be nice to live in the Capitol. No worries, hardley any jobs, the riches are sent over along with all the hardships that the Districts make. Haymich is the last to enter into the car, he lets out a sigh as he rests his head onto the head rest of the seat. He seems hungover, he must have drunk the rest of the alcohol in the bottles when I went to bed. Haymitch must have really loved her, if someone like me can bring up such memories. I look away from Haymitch and go to the side windows.

The citizens seem to be following our car, as if they were crazy fans of a celebrity. Well of course, we are their celebrities, we are Tributes after all. We're going to be entertaining them for the next week or so, I laugh to myself at the thought. How can someone so blind and dumbfound think that killing is a usefull way of entertainment? I shutter, then clear my thoughts. I'm not going to get anywhere by thinking bad about them. I need them, and I'm not going to get them if I'm cursing at them in my thoughts. The car stops infront of a large stone building, with smooth walls, and hundreds of windows. There seems to be more than 10 stories, and a balcony at the top. We exit the car, Effie leading herself to the doors, and almost running through the doors, muttering to herself about how we might be late. I slowly follow her to the doors, but stop myself. I look up, observing the tall beautiful building so close to me. I realize, that this building will house me till my death date, and will be the training center to survive in the hell I will enter. I shutter at the thought, yet somehow mutter under my breath, "Amazing. Purely amazing."

I hear someone walk to me, their mouth comes in contact with my ear, and I hear Peeta whisper in soft words, "Welcome to the Capitol."

**PART 5**

"Get up! We're going to be late! Get up, get up, GET UP!" Effie screams as she yanks the blankets off my, what was, warm body. "5 more minutes..." I slurr from my drool covered lips. Effie picks me up with my pale arms and throws me off my bed. "When I return, you better be ready." I hear her scowl then leave the room to wake up Peeta. I lay on the floor, closing on my eyes for a bit. The floor isn't confortable at all, so I get up, and put the blankets back onto the bed. I wanted to get ready for the day, but the only clothes I have are the ones sitting before me. I had slept in the pajamas that a girl brought to me. I set to leave the room to ask someone for another pair of clothes, but as I set my hand on the door knob, someone else opens the door. The girl comes into my room, and silently hands me another pair of clothes. "Thank you." I say, taking the clothes from her. She bows and leaves, her red hair seeming to streak the air.

"What is the girl with the red hair named?" I ask at the table, shoving eggs into my mouth. Effie seemed to drop her muffin in surprise of such a stupid question.

"She doesn't have a name."

"Why not?"

"She's an Avox."

''A what?"

"Someone who made a crime, and their punishment is to become a maid."

"And that gives them an excuse to take away her name?" I snarl through my teeth, instantly regretting the tone. Effie stands up, pushed her chair out, and stormed out of the room. Peeta had remained quiet through the whole heated discussion, eating his toast, and watching with amusement.

"I don't get it either." Peeta admits through his food. I snap him a look, then leave the table. I storm up the stairs that lead to the balcony, trying not to rip something apart. I crash myself through the door and I'm greeted with a cold morning wind. Up on the balcony, there are many flowers gardens, trees that bare blossoms and not needles, wind chimes hang from their branches. I can't help but smile as the wind courses around my body, whipping my hair free from it's loose braids. There is a white stone bench that sits in the middle of the balcony, I rest myself on the bench, and look at the rising sun. I let out a sigh, looking at the orange that elevates off the sun. It reminds me of the orange cake Peeta was eating on the train, while he spoke about how he didn't even know if I should trust him.

Does Peeta not trust himself as my ally? Does he think he'll kill me while I'm asleep in the arena? The fact that his father thinks I should trust him triggers a sign of caution. He is his father, he wants Peeta to get out, not me. He will take every step it takes to make sure his son will be in his arms again, even the step of killing off me. Of course, if it comes to it, I could be the only thing standing in his way. Only one comes out, and I know it won't be me. There will be 23 other tributes, who love to kill, including the weakest. The two tributes I saw from District 1 look like they could eat puppies for breakfast, they can handle me easily.

With my head clear, this seems like the time to think of a plan. Haymitch hasn't been much help at all, looks like I have to fend for myself. After many years of required Hunger Games watching, I know the basics. There is a cornicupia, full of weapons, and backpacks. After the countdown, the tributes can either run to the cornicupia and risk being killed then and there, or they can run away with no supplies. The lay out of the arena is different every year, I recall one year being only a desert with rocks and snakes. Many had to kill by smashing in skulls with the rocks, or tipping their blow dart in the snake poison. Many died of starvation and thirst, it was the slowest and most painful game. The Victor was from District 2, since 2 works with stones, they knew how to hit the rock on another rock to craft sharp edges. He later died from the malnutrition. With no idea of what the lay out will be, I can't make an plan. I don't know what there will be to screw up my plan, huge tital waves could drown me, or lightning strikes could zap me. Nothing is predictable with the Game makers.

Today will be the Tribute Parade, the Capitol will get a second glance at this years Tributes. After watching the reaping, this time they will see us dressed on outrageous costumes showing which district we come from. I am District 12, coal mining. Every year, the stylists have the tributes dress in coal mining outfits, along with flashlight helmets, and pick axes. We never stand out, not next to the Career Districts that have the outstanding stylists. I dread for the moment today when I am forced to put on the heavy outfit and be humiliated. I let out a sigh and have my eyes close. Those are moments that will come, right now, I must relax. "Strip down." I hear one of my stylists command me. Without a second of hesitation, I start slipping off my shoes. "First, we need to completely wax you." "Wax?" They only time District 12 has used wax is for the wax candles for the mines. What will wax do to my body? The stylist looks at me as if I'm stupid, but then remembers I'm from a "far to gone for class" District.

"We're going to take all the hair of your body."

"Why?"

"So you look shiny and new."

"I'm only 12."

"We're aware. Now shush and lay down."

After many hours of waxing, having them rake through my knotted hair, and pluck my eye brows, I feel like my whole body is burning. They wash me down with a moveable shower head, blow dry my hair to its fluff maximum, then leave my bare self alone. They told me the head stylist, Cinna, would be coming soon. The door opens and a tall normal looking man walks into the room, with short brown hair and green eyes. He wear a simple black shirt and pants, nothing flashy at all, like the other Capitol Citizens. He looks to be in the middle of his twenties. "I'm Cinna, your stylist. You can put your robe on." He speaks, he has a pleasing low voice. Without hesitation, I snap the robe on, hating that I had to present myself in the first place. "I'm sorry you've been choosen as a tribute." I'm shocked at his words. Every Capitol person has congratualted me, not telling their apologizes.

"If you're sorry, then why are you a stylist?"

"To show my work, I take much pride in it. I want to make every Tribute stand out, I want to make you stand out." Cinna comes closer to me, fiddling with my golden locks. "You're so small, so young, I'm extremely sorry." His voice that lacks the Capitol accents echoes through the white tile rom.

"It's not your fault." I whiper, watching his eye lids lined with gold flicker. He smilies, still fiddling with my hair.

"You have so much potential." I hear him whisper. There is a silence before he asks me, "Prim, are you scared of fire?"

**PART 6**

The carriages have been loaded, District 12 has been paired with coal black horses. Peeta and I are dressed in black suits that fit tightly yet confortably onto our bodies, black capes drape over us. Cinna stands before you, with a match in his hand. I eye the match, hoping he won't dare to come closer. I know he will though, it's part of the event, if he doesn't do it, I won't be noticed. Peeta has a confused look on his face, and whisper into my ear, "What is he going to do?". Caution lives and festers in his voice. I whisper with a smile on my lips, something I can't wipe away.

"Just wait and see. You're going to love it."

Cinna steps toward my cape, and touches the end of the match to it. The black fabric immediately ignited with a beautiful red flame. The flame didn't crawl toward my skin, but stayed on the cape as if it were wings. Peeta tries not to flinch as Cinna does the same to his cape. We both look majestic, the flames outlining our cheek bones, and giving our eyes the flame of attention. Peeta's smile grows as big as mine.

"The parade is about to start. Remember, smile. These are your sponsors. Good luck guys, you look amazing." Cinna tells as. Right when he finishes his sentence, our carriage starts rolling forward. One by one, carriages infront of us leave the tunnel, and go into the arena of screaming Capitol citizens. I look at the carriage that's infront of us, before they leave the tunnel also.

A large man with dark skin and dark hair is infront of us, he's threatening just by looking at him. I don't want to see the damadge he will do in the Games. I look to the right of him, a little girl. My heart gives a tug, she looks about the same age as me, 12. She has puffy curly hair and has dark skin like the man beside her. She must be as scared as I am. Why didn't any volunteer for us? We are the double digit districts, no one volunteers in those districts. Its a punishment to go into the Games for us, not a privilege.

Our carriage is the next to leave the tunnel. My stomach is fluttering, my hands are shaking. If I screw this up if I don't make them like me...I'll be dead in the first day. I give my body a huge shake, then contain myself again from the nervous gitters. "You okay?" Peeta asks. I knod, trying to not let my arms shake also. Peeta puts his hand in mine, and smilies at me as we exit the tunnel. The screams of the Capitol overwhelm my ears beyond anything I could imagine. The last time I heard anything this loud since the mine explosion. I was seven and I remember it to vividly. I shake away the flashbacks, I can't cry. Not here. I grip Peeta's hand more, and let my mouth form into the most painful smile. I watch as the Capitol's screams turn into "Ooo"'s and "Ahh"'s as they turn their attention to us. They cheer and clap, throwing us roses, and blowing us kisses. I catch a rose and grip it with my other hand, and raise it to the general direction that it was thrown to me. I blow back their kisses, hoping I don't look ridiculous.

We get to the end of the isle and the carriages have formed a half circle around a tall podium. A man with white hair and darks eyes appears at the podium. The words he speaks are just a blurr, I don't pay attention to anything but the other faces of the tributes. They all look ruthless, blood thirsty. They want to win, they want to get home as much as I do.

I'm screwed.

**PART 7**

Training days. I shudder in the elevator as it decends into the huge room where all tributes will be together for the first time. Two days of fear that I might be "accidently" injured, the fear that the Careers will look at me like I'm a meal, the fear that they'll take me as one. Again, I shutter, my whole body is trembling. I can't contain how much I want to pry these doors open and jump out. I feel like a mad women. All the information that Effie and Haymitch have been pounding in my brain is slipping out, I can't grip it back. In the training center, there will be no cameras, no one will be watching. It's just you, the tributes, the game makers, and the weapons. The weapons, I shutter again. Here is the place where people will train to kill. Or worse, kill me.

"You okay?" I hear Peeta ask me. I turn to him, my eyes almost filling with tears. "Prim..." Peeta grips my body and strokes my one braid, this form should be natual for him, he's done it too many times to count. "It'll be okay...Remember what Haymitch told you..."

"I can't." I sniff through his shirt. "I'm forgetting it all." "That's perfectly fine, Prim. Just listen to me, I'll remember for you. Haymitch wants to to make allies, more than just me. Not with people strong and fierce than you, choose someone you can trust. It is better to have quality, than quantity." he almost whispers these words. I have decieded that I can trust Peeta, if I didn't, I would have never let him touch me in the first place. I sigh, letting eveything sink back into place.

"Thank you." I say through his shirt.

"You're welcome."

The elevator door opens and Peeta lets his arms slip from mine. I turn away from him and I walk into the huge gynasium. Weapons, everywhere. There are stations scattered across the room, along with obstacle courses. Someone pins a square piece of cloth, with the number 12 painted on it. We are explained the rules; we cannot engage in combative exercise at all with any other tribute. If we want to train to fight against someone, there are assistants. We are free to go to any station. The stations vary of subject, from survival skills to fighting skills. All of this is in our hands, we should take advantage of it. I look around at the other tributes. They are all bigger than me, except the girl from 11. She matches my eye contact and smilies, I smile back, a real smilie. I scan the rest of the tributes, some look like they've been starved, while others look completelly fine. Districts 1, 2, and 4 look the most healthy, for they are the wealthiest. I look down upon my body and mentally compare myself. They may be healthy, but so am I. From Katniss hunting and gathering from the meadow, I might be the healthiest 12 tribute ever. Next, I look to Peeta at a side glance. He is the bakers son, I have no idea if that is a rich job, or a poor one. I don't know if Peeta's physical form is healthy or poor to what the job could provide. There is the flour sacks, he could become strong from the years of that.

The tributes all walk away, we must have been dismissed. I don't move though, as if my legs won't let me. I try and command them, but they won't budge. Peeta takes my hand and leads me to a station, I don't even know the name of. Somehow my legs had listened to him. He points to a flower, its pink, with yellow in the middle. The yellow looks like a mini flower. "You know what flower this is?" he asks. I shake my head, I never was good at plant identifying, Katniss was the gatherer. Peeta picks up the flower and puts it in my hair, "It's a Primrose flower." he smilies.

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and turn around. I feel the flower coming loose, I see Peeta catching it, and setting it back onto the station table. Its the little girl, she smilies again at me. "Hi." I say in a softer voice than I expected.

"Hi." she says back, matching my softness.

"I'm Prim."

"Rue."

"Allies?" I ask, I know I can trust her. I know she won't hurt me, I can tell just by looking at her. Haymitch told me to trust my gut, but then Effie smacked his shoulder, and told me to be wise. I am being both, I just hope she will be also. Rue doesn't take a second to hesitate, she knods her head, and hugs me. "Yes." She says as she giggles. "I'll be your allie."

**PART 8**

"Primrose Everdeen." The machine calls my name. It's time. It's private training score time. My mind has gone blank, I have no idea what I can show them. "Prim?" I turn my head, facing Peeta. "Good luck." I smile, "Good luck." I reply. I turn and walk down the hallway, to the gymnasium. I walk through the doors, seeing the Gamemakers and other Capitol men sit in a balcony. They laugh, drinking, and eating. They don't have a care about me, they have seen 22 other tributes who have tried to impress them. I am just another number, and they've lost their attention span. I walk around the room, they still don't notice me. This gives me time to know what to do. I see all the station, empty. That's when I see it, a completely unnoticeable station buried in the dark corner. A Medical Station.

Mother worked at an Apotheicary, she taught me what she knows. Why hadn't I thought of this sooner? I look at the mass amount of trays and trays of herbs. With glee, I have reached my heaven. I roll the station over to be infront of the Gamemakers balcony. I clear my throat as loudly as I could. They still don't give a single care. I fiddle with my bangs, I don't like being rude, but I need to prove I can have a training score good enough to beat others.

"Primrose Everdeen." I say, loud and clear. Their chatter goes silent, their attention is finally on the blonde little girl. A man with a fablous beard stands up, and stands against the railing. "Go on." he says, mimicking my voice.

"If you ever get bleeding gums, or a sore throat, the solution is Bayberry. Black walnut expels parasites, internal, and outernal. Blessed Thistle strengths your heart, and maxes the oxygen to your brain." Off I go, rambling on and on built up information about plants and their uses. I hold up the herb that I talking about, giving extra imformation than I could imagine. My sentences are flowing together with out a whim. And yet, after not even thirty seconds, they turn their attention away from me. I engluf with anger, and spit out,

"If you ever bronchitis, which I hope you do. You'll never know."

I stock away, stomping to the doors. Forgetting I had left the station out in the open, I run back, pushing the cart as hard as I could, back to its spot. It rolls and crashes into the wall, I turn back to the balcony. Now they all look at me, I bow, and smile. "Bye bye now."


	3. Chapter 3

**PART 9 **

I walk in my clumsy high heels onto the black tiled stage. My heart is beating out of my chest, I can hardly breath. "You know her, Primrose Everdeen!" I hear an ecstatic voice call me. The cheers and applause of the audience practiclly takes my breath away. I let myself smile as I walk closer to my chair and Caesar. I am on stage, I am being seen by every Capitol person, every District is watching. All eyes are on me. I better not screw it up.

I'm about to faint. I grip the chair with my scrawyn arms and sit myself down. I can't look at anything, the audience, Caesar. I set my eyes on my reflection in the tile. I don't think I've ever looked so beautiful. My hair is down and flows down my shoulders like a water fall. My lips are a soft pink, and brown eye shadow is on my eye lids. This is the lightest make up I've had on since I've gotten here. I smile and laugh to myself. My, have I transformed.

I remember Effie and Haymitch almost yelling at me not to screw it up. Don't be mean or sarcastic, be sweet and innocent. Make the people pity you, you are a too young of a girl going into the arena that was made for killing. Remember, being yourself might be certain doom.

"Prim?" Caesar asks me, I snap my head back to him. I hope he didn't ask me a question, I hope I didn't fase out, and embarass myself. "The Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What's impressed you the most since you arrived here?"

Instantly, without even thinking about if my reply was innocent, I blurt, "The balcony." Caesar gives me a smile, a peacful one, not one thats forced. Maybe I actually said something good. "Oh my, yes, that balcony is wonders. I wish I could go up there, I've heard so much about it." I hear the audience sigh in unison. I smile, maybe I am innocent naturally.

"Now Prim, when you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. What did you think of that costume."

Innocent, think innocent. "I thought it was the first time I felt completely gorgeous. Nothing I've ever seen before, there is nothing so brilliant like that at District 12. Cinna takes pure pride in his work, I'm glad I got him. I'm glad I get to wear this also!" I say, gesturing to my soft mix between pink and purple dress.

"Yes! That is beautiful, you're a very lucky little girl." The word rings into my head, little. I am, of course, just a little girl. Can I do much more than just be innocent?

"Thank you." I say, putting in a giggle at the end. I hear some members of the audience go "aww" at my child like laughter. I give them a cute smile and squish my shoulders.

"Now, your training score. You got an 8, the same as your partner. Could you give us a hint on how you did it? A girl your age had gotten a 7, what made you a point more special?"

I shake my head, knowing I can't reveal what I had done. "I'm sorry Caesar, my lips are seeled." I say in a soft voice, trying to sound as pure as possible. "Something surprising, I think. But nothing wrong, I hope." I smile.

"Okay, okay." I see him smile back. "To the reaping, what was going through your head when your name was called?" This, I cannot be honest about. What was going through my head? If I could answer correctly, I would say, "Why couldn't my sister volunteer for me?". But that would raise the question of why she wasn't there. I try to think of something to say, a lie thats pure.

"When I was called, my mind went blank. My name is in there once, once. Yet somehow I was called, it defied all odds. As I walked toward the stage, my hands were shaking so much. I couldn't put together a single thought. I wanted to cry though, that was a process I knew I could still accomplish."

"Why did you want to break down?" Caesar asks. I forgot, he's a Capitol man, he thinks the games are an honor. I'll need a good excuse to cover this screw up.

"I have a goat...and a cat. The goat is named Lady, the cat's name is Buttercup."

"You were thinking about your animals?" Purity, right there, right in my hands! What is more innocent than a girl missing her cat? Nothing! I knod my head, trying to make myself cry. Tears will add more innocence. I let a tear drop onto the black tile.

"Oh, oh, Prim." He takes his finger and wipes the next tear away. "Let's change to the Justice Building, who had visited you?"

"My mother." I say, thinking it would be a bad idea to mention Peeta's father.

"Would you like to tell us what she told you?"

"She almost said nothing. We were crying too hard. She held me until a Peacekeeper came and took her away."

I look away from the hands in my lap and look to the audience. I hear then sniffing, I watch them patting their eyes with bright colored hankies. I have touched their hearts, what more could I want? I let myself cry more, twice as many tears. I don't cry into my hands like I did in the Justice Building, I let the tears drip off my chin and onto my dress. The buzzer goes off, the room is still silent. No one is speaking a word, they only watch as I cry.

"That's all the time we have for now." Caesar tells me softly. I knod my head, and wipe the rest of the tears away. Caesar stands up and takes my hand, I stand up along with him. He gives me a huge hug, one that the person in the last row could see the pity that Caesar holds. "Primrose Everdeen from District 12!"

**PART 10**

Maybe my cries can't echo through the tile room. Maybe no one can hear me. Maybe I can let myself cry before going into the arena. Maybe I can survive. Maybes never come true. "Prim?" I snap my head, I squint my eyes, trying not to let the tears seep through. Haymitch has to leave soon, he has to watch the bloodbath from the giant tv's in the Capitol's center. This has been the first time in a few days that he has talked to me, let alone look at me.

"Please, please, no matter how much you want to, don't go into the Cornicupia."

"You've told me that."

"Don't trust the Careers."

"Yes, Haymitch."

"Find water, water is your new best friend."

"I will."

"One more thing." Haymitch pulls me into a hug, his huge arms completely circling me. "Please, try and win." He whispers, stroking my braids. There are the words again, try and win. The odds are against me, I will not return home, I have grown used to the thought. I nod my head, however, and press my face against his chest. This will be the last time I see him, I shutter. A peacekeeper comes to lead Haymitch to the Capitol, his arms slowly slip from mine. He kisses my forehead and slowly turns away from me, I can see the depression settling back into his eyes. I stay where I am, letting my feet stay planted. I watch as Haymitch steps with the Peacekeeper, away from me forever.

"Haymitch!" I call lightly. He turns to face me, a tear is starting to come out of his blue eye. "Maysilee will protect me." I say, soft but loud. I didn't punch the words at him, I was letting him know a secret from a friend. Haymitch smilies and nods, then turns to walk away. I wipe away the tears from my eyes and turn to the far corner of the title room. I hear Cinna walk into the room, his shoes clicking against the floor.

"Cinna, I'm scared." I almost whisper. Cinna grabs my arena jacket and slips it onto my shoulders, "You'll be fine, Prim." he says softly. I rub my thumb on the plastic like fabric. It's a fabric that doesn't let in rain, but takes in heat. There will be cold day and nights, that is what I can gather. I have almost identical pants on and hiking boots. Every detail I examine brings my hope lower and lower. Cinna pulls my head away from the outfit, and kisses my forehead like Haymitch did. They all pity me.

"20 SECONDS" says the robotic voice. I look at Cinna with panicked eyes, I can't let myself move from this spot, I can't. I have to stay here, I have to. My heart is racing out of my chest, tears are streaming harder and harder as I hear the voice count down. Cinna pushes me into the glass tube in the corner of the room with his gentle hands.

"5 SECONDS." Cinna takes his three fingers and kisses his lips, then holds his hand out to me. It is a District 12 sign of respect, sacrafices. It means saying good bye to someone you love. The tube is rising, I am being taken into the arena. I pound my fists on the glass, I have to get out. I can't die, I can't die. The cold air bites my skin as I'm pushed helplessly into the arena. I wipe away my tears, the cameras will be on me, I can't let them see I am weak. But, of course, I am an innocent little girl. I let a few tears show onto my cheek, maybe the Capitol will see the sadness and panic in my eyes, and send sponsers.

I snap my head to the Cornicupia, mounds of weapons, and supplies. My stomach gitters as I look at the items that could save my life, I have to look away, I have to obey Haymitch's orders. I can make it without the distractions from the center. I let my eyes travel from tribute to tribute, they all are looking at the Cornicupia, they all want it. Almost none will get it. I see Peeta, he doesn't look at the weapons, he looks at me. I nod, he knows the plan to meet outside the Cornicupia and run. Rue is aware of the plan too, and she nods and smiles at me. Why would she smile while in the arena? No one does, except Haymitch with Maysilee. Our newest allie is next to Rue, she is tall, and has red hair, her face resembles a fox in a way. She can identify plants like me, that's where I met her, at the plant station. Fern is her name.

The countdown has begun.

10

Breathe I tell myself, breathe

9

8

7

6

My palms are getting sweaty

5

4

I can't keep still, I have to leave, the nerves are killing me. My heart beat is uncontrollable, I have to calm down, but there is no use

3

2

Haymitchs words echo through my head, "You have to win."

1

**PART 11**

My feet slam against the ground, running the split second my toes scrap the grass. I have to get something from the Cornicupia, no one else in my alliance is. They all run to our meeting place behind the platforms, like we had agreed. I'm breaking our agreement, just this once. I need to get something, anything, from there. There might come a moment when we need it, the backpack I could snatch could save one of our lives. I have to be quick, I have to be sneaky, they all stand there waiting for me like sitting ducks.

"Tuck your tail in, Little Duck." Katniss's soft whispers echos through my head, they hit my like a heart attack. I shake my head as I run, Katniss had to be out of my mind. No matter how toxic those words sound, I have to admit that they're the truth.

I've made it to the outer ring of the Cornicupia, watter bottles and little boxes of matches come under my feet. I have to get something more valuable. A backpack, that will be gold. I see one, it's bright orange. Without thinking of how bright orange will be noticeable, I reach for the backpack strap, my fingers brushing the fabric, when a tribute snatches it. I look up, I can barely see his face, until he knocks me down with the backpack. I need the backpack, it's the only one left. I run after him, he's slow, I am skinny and fast.

I jump onto his back and latch onto the top strap on the backpack. I throw my weight to the ground, he comes down with me. Without a second of hesiation, I strip him of his backpack, and grip it in my hands. I ready myself to run, when a fist the size of a baseball hits my cheek. My head hits the grass, I let all the pain be a past memory as I'm faced with the angry tribute's face not even 3 inches away from mine. He snarles, he has a small knife in his hand. This was a mistake, why did I let the supplies take me in to my certain danger?

The tribute raises his knife, he's going to strike. I look into his eyes, determination fills them, he doesn't care that he will kill a 12 year old. A flicker happens to fast I can't trace, but when the flash of silver passes, the tribute is on top of me. There is a knife in his back, he is dead. I grip the backpack harder in my hand as I use the other one to throw his body off me. The tribute that threw the knife stands ten feet away from us, she wants to kill me also. I put on the backpack in just a second as I run. Running and running as hard as I can, my lungs are burning, adrenaline is courcing. Then, I hear it. A chink, metal sinking into something. Pain is rushed through my body, I feel the warm blood drip down my calf. The pain is like a flame that licks its burn to my nerves, knowing the worst part to trigger.

My leg goes out, I have fallen to the ground. The knife is some where, I can't bare to look. My finger search for the handle, I rip it out, seeing the red red blood shine on the deadly blade. I try to crawl myself awau, try to get out of the Tributes firey blaze of the lust for blood. My eyes widen, I can't die, not now. I am lame, I can not walk, my mind is gone blank. All I do, is watch as the dark haired girl tribute comes at me with another knife. She doesn't throw it at me, she wants to take her time with me, make my death slow. Thats why she threw the knife at my leg, and not my back. She is two feet infront of me, I can hear my heart beat thunder underneath my chest. My hearbeat, this might be the last time I hear it. The girl is 6 inches from my face, her foot is on my hand. She rubs her heel into my hand, crushing and brusing as much as she can. I cry out in pain, my eyes blinded by tears. All I can see, is the evil snear of the girl.

She raises her knife, I can see the deadly silver flicker in the sunlight. Just as I know my death is near, and that my cannon will sound at the end of the day, I see a huge dark mass fling themselves at the girl. She flies into the ground, crushed by the huge figure. I rub my eyes, seeking through the tears as a male tribute with dark skin punches and kicks the girl. He is on top of her, he is filled with the rage, he saved me. I can't watch the fight anymore, I have to leave. If the man dies, I know he died for me. If I can't thank him in the arena, I will in Heaven.

I hop as fast as I can, dragging my dead leg with me. I cry out in pain every time I take a step. I am too far from my allies, they've watches this whole time. Why didn't they help? Peeta sees that I'm limping, he is the strongest of the group, and the kindest. He bolts into a full run, hoping no one will pay attention to him. He straps his arms around my waist, and throws my onto his shoulder. I jiggle as he runs into the forest, the backpack on my body bounces along with me. It is a painful reminder that what I risked my life for is still with me. I can see Rue and Fern following us, their mouth speak words, but I can't hear them. They can't be whispering, their footsteps have to be too loud, they are on a full run. My eye sight is going dark and splotch. I can only see puzzle pieces of Rue's soft innocent face, her hair bobs up and down as she runs down the hill. I hear nothing, I see nothing. Maybe I am dead. Maybe I'd be better off dead.

"Prim?" The soft voice echoes painfully, each sylaball stabs my headache to torture more. My eyes stay closed, my mind is filled with the drousey remains of my black out. My head feels as if it was knocked with a rock, then filled with air. I feel sick, I want to go back to the peacful black out. "Prim, please wake up." I can't identify the voice, it's filled with fear, they care about if I die.

My eyes flutter open, there is no sun light to blind my vulnerable sight. I lift my head, hardly handling that simple task. Every one is circled around me, there is no fire, only the stars above us. My backpack is under my neck, I can feel the fabric stained with blood stain my pale skin. The blood must be the male tributes, the one who stole the backpack from me. All the memories slam back into place, a man tribute I didn't even know, saved me from the girl tribute. He threw himself on top of her, he knew his might die, but he did it anyway. The first sacrifice of the arena, saving me. Why did he do it? Am I really worth it?

I see Rue, she was the owner of the voice. She is holding my right hand, the left one is covered in black and blue. An imprint of the shoe heel is the darkest black I've seen on my skin. The pain is sharp, and throbs like a stomach ache. I could have a small break in one of my fingers, I feel blessed that I am right handed, and that my left is the one that can't be used. Rue speaks again, her voice not echoing as much, "You blacked out from blood loss." It takes me what seems like hours to comprehend what those words mean. I blacked out from blood loss. Blood loss? From what?

The one memory clicks into place, the reason the man saved me. I was weak, My leg has been pierced with a blade. He saved me because my guard was down, I couldn't save myself. I look at my leg, the calf is wrapped in leaves. What used to be green is now stained red. I take it that there is no needle and thread in the backpack. I look away from the wound, I scan the faces of my allies. They waited for me, they didn't run off without me. Peeta saved me, he threw me onto his shoulders. Another sacrifice in the arena.

"I've changed the leaves twice every hour, your blood keeps coming. We thought you were dead. The end of the day hasn't come yet, the blood bath cannons and faces haven't appeared. We thought we lost you.." Peeta's voice is close to tears. I look at him, his face is smeared with blood, and his black shirt glimmers with blood. My blood. My leg must have dripped onto him as he carried me. I look at Fern, her hair is out of the pigtails she had in earlier. It lays down to her shoulders, leafs and sticks are in her hair. Did she fall?

"We got some berries and root plants. We saved most of the for you." Rue speaks for Fern. I look at Rue, her face and finger are smeared with dirt. Peeta was protecting, Fern and Rue were gathering, and I was out cold. They all have done something worth while. Fern silently hand me a leaf plate of blackberries and strawberries. I let the soft berry juice squirt into my mouth, I smile. "Thank you, both of you." Rue hugs me, her body is shaking more than mine. I hug her with my bruised hand while the other one balances me.

"There was one sleeping bag, some crackers, dried beef, bottle of iodine, matches, wire, glasses, and an empty water bottle in the backpack. The water bottle isn't empty anymore, we got some from the creek, and purifed it with iodine. The sleeping bag is what you're in right now. We are saving the beef and crackers for if we can't find any food ourselves. The matches, we haven't used those yet, we're saving them. We don't know what the glasses do." Peeta hands me the water bottle, I let the cold water drip down my throat, it cools the burn.

I feel the sleeping bag on my skin now, the warmth that coats my body. I look on their faces, and smile. "You guys are the best." I know the statment is understated, but it is the only sentence I can piece together right now. A cannon goes off, followed by another, and another. Each echoing through the arena, each signaling a life that has been lost. Thirteen cannons have gone off, thirteen souls ripped from this cruel world. The faces are poured onto the night sky, the harsh blue haze shows the innocent faces of the dead.

District 3 female, district 4 female, district 4 male, district 5 male, district 6 female, district 6 male, district 7 female, district 7 male, district 8 male, district 9 female, district 9 male, district 10 female.

The face of the male from District 9 screams in my face. It is the face of the boy who I fought over the backpack with. It is the face of the boy who died in my lap, the one I lead to death. I could have been the one, but he was. There is one more face, the 13th face of the blood bath. District 11, his name was Thresh. He saved me from the girl. He is dead.

**PART 12**

"Did you know him well?" I ask Rue, my voice shaking. Thresh was her district partner, maybe she has seen him...knew him? I watch as Rue's sad face nods, her sagging hair bouncing as she does.

"He would let me sit on his shoulders, so I could reach the higher vines of the grape plants. He was like the brother I never had." Rue looks to Fern, her eyes dying to change the subject.

"Did you know your district partner?" Fern shakes her head, red hair violent in the dark. "He was a stranger." She simply replies. I knod and look to Peeta, his eyes are closed. Everyone here is tired, except me. They've been worried that I could have died, while I've been sleeping. It is their turn to sleep. Peeta has been protecting me, Fern and Rue have been gathering, I've been nothing but trouble.

"You guys need to go to sleep, I'll take first watch. Everyone needs to sleep, you've done so much for me, I should repay you." I speak softly. I scan everyone's drooping eyes, they're debating through the tired if they should trust me. A good instinct when in the arena, you never know if one your allies will slit your throat while you sleep. Peeta and Fern look at each other, then nod their heads, as if they talked to each other in their minds on an agreement. I crawl out of my sleeping bag, and pass the warmth to them. I let my body rest against the tree behind me, my body exhausted just by dragging myself out. My calf is throbbing now, I can feel the blood seeping into the dirt where my leg rests. Rue scoots closer to me, setting her head on my shoulder. Her poofy hair brushes my cheek, a soft bounce to rest on. She wants to fall asleep here, and not with the others. She chooses blood soaked me, and not the warmth drenching sleeping bag. I smile at the thought, and look down on Rue. Her eyes are still filled with sadness.

"Rue?"

"He is really gone..." A tear is fighting to leave her eye. "I was the oldest of my 5 siblings...having Thresh was a balance, someone else to have all the responsibility, not me." She shakes her head, as if she's trying to shove away reality. "This can't be happening..." she says hushed.

"He died a good man, a fighter, a hero...Is that someone you can hold pride and happy memories to?"

"How do you now that he was a hero?"

''He saved me. He jumped on the girl who was going to kill me. He threw himself and crushed the girl who screwed up my leg. Maybe she hurt him, maybe on of her allies help her and hurt him...but, he saved me." I look to Rue, tears rolling down her soft cheeks.

"Her name is Clove. The girl who murdered Thresh is named Clove." anger is hidden in her voice. She knows the name of the murderer, I shutter.

"You should get some sleep." I whisper, my voice trembling under my breath. Her hand clasps around mine as she closes her eyes, tightly she squeezes. She's trying to grasp to the one friend she has left, the only girl her age she can turn to... I the filler to her sadness. I look down at her peaceful face and see a new friend, I smile. A new friend in a new Hell. I look to Peeta and Fern, Ferns head is resting on Peeta's shoulder, they're sitting tightly together. I smile bigger, we're all finding our fillers to our sadness. We're all finding peace, what could be more perfect?

I look up at the night sky. Even if they're fake, they gleam like the real ones. Rue and I are each others peace, new friends filling in new gaps. Peeta and Fern are filling each others gaps, maybe the gaps between their fingers. A new smile, a new butterfly in their stomach, a new hope. I smile, a new peace.

I'm startled by the crunching of leaves. It isn't leaves snapping off their branches and slowly tumbling to the soft grass. The crunching plants are being pushed to their crumble by a force. Footsteps. People. My heart starting beating to my ears, it beats through my chest. They'll see us, I know it. They'll kill all of us. I hear their whispers, the flicker of their movement in the sunrise. They giggle with anticipation, they are ready to kill, and will enjoy it. Their footsteps come closer, their shapes easily seen as they glide. Closer, closer, closer. I have to wake them, I need help.

I kick Peeta with my good leg. There is no sign of him waking, I kick him again, and again. He groans, but doesn't open his eyes. I kick him again, and again. I dare not whisper a single word, the Hunters are close enough to hear my breath. I shut my mouth and try to slow myself. If we can't run, we must hide. I see that we might be enclosed enough in the fallen logs, and tree foliage that they might not see us. We might live another day.

BOOM

A cannon to signal the death of a tribute. A bloody murder scream of a girl just before her life was ripped away, an innocent girl. The evil of the games. Her face will appear when the day is over, along with others if there are more deaths. Her cannon marks the first death of the day, the harsh beginning of Day 2. Let it begin.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 13**

The sun has now rose above the lining of the trees. I have been awake all night, my eyes want to close so badly. I took everyones turn in staying up, everyone but me needed to sleep. On sunny days like this, in District 12, I would walk into the meadow with Buttercup slowly following me. Katniss would be unaware of this, she would be at the Hob with Gale. I would walk with Buttercup until we go to the hole in the fence, Buttercup walked first, then I. I could hear the silence of the fence, I knew it was never active.

Inside the meadow, was where peace rested. The sun leaked into the tree canopies, the leafs would sparkle with the morning dew, the air was fresher than anything I could ever breath. I felt free, nothing could control me. Here, I could smile, I could sing, I could dance, and no one could question me. Buttercup would chase butteflies and make me laugh, he always could. I would walk around the meadow for hours, knowing Katniss would never know. It would my secret. MY secret, all mine. I had no fear of getting found, no one but Katniss and Gale travel into the meadow. Everyone thinks a monster will jump out from behind a bush and scare them. I am not so foolish. I know the dangers of the meadow, the menacing teeth of the unmentionable cougars don't scare me. I have grown used to the idea of Katniss facing them, I can face them myself.

"Prim?" I turn my head to Rue, who I had from my shoulder and set onto the soft dirt to sleep more comfortably. Her pillow was my arena jacket, while I had set her's over her body. It was a cold night, Peeta and Fern has shared the sleeping bag, Rue needed something. A fire at night is the stupidiest idea anyone could make in the arena, that is probably why the Gamemakers made it cold in the first place. For torture and temptation.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Can we have breakfast?" Her question rings me the reminder of my growling stomach, it feels hollow just like it was at District 12. I have grown used to the feeling of emptiness, but since Rue is from the fruit district, she might never go hungry. I nod my head, remembering also I had eaten all the roots and berries while taking my watch. There is no breakfast.

"You stay here, for watch. Wake Peeta if you'd like. I'll go get us some more berries." I say, slowly getting up. A trigger of nerves and the feeling of death immediatly shoots through my veins. If only I had also remembered the large bleeding gash on my calf. I sit myself down on the fallen log, my legs thanking me for the rest. Even the most slightest movement sets it off, this knocks down the idea of walking, let alone defend myself if a tribute targets me. Rue rockets up from her nest of jackets and inspects my cut. She shakes her head and refuses to make eye contact with me.

"You can tell me the truth." I whisper, regretting the words I uttered. I don't want the truth, I already know it. I will bleed to death if I don't get help soon. It takes Rue, what feels like, an eternity to look at me, and reply.

"It can get infected very easily. It vulnerable and open, it can easily catch anything out here. Your blood keeps seeping out, there seems to be no stopping it. Unless we get something impossible, like a stitches kit, we can save you from bleeding out." Rue starts sheading tears, I follow her. I am not sad, I want to be pitied. I know the arena cameras are on us, what more could the Capitol love? Two girls crying over a death situation, and their only solution is the one staring at them through the t.v screen.

"I don't want to die." I muster through the sobs. That was the key sentence, the key to our solution. We hear a beep, its so faint, for a second I thought maybe it was my hopes getting the better of me. The ring comes again, it echoes closer, and closer. I look up and see a white parachute float towards us, it lands next to my foot. The ringing wakes Peeta and Fern, Fern lifts her head from Peetas chest, and looks up to Peeta. Her cheeks flush, so does Peeta's. Maybe the resting order was intentional. Peeta slowly unzips the sleeping bag and lets Fern exit before him. They all circle around us as I take the parachute into my lap. Then I unlatch the parachute clasp, the beeping stops. Opening the package, rests a needle, and thread. Just what our prayers needed.

I look anywhere, the sky, the trees, the ground. I say out loud, not caring what the others think, "Thank you so much." through my tears. Peeta wipes away the last dripping ones and takes the thread into his hands.

"My mother taught me." I say, taking the thread from his hands. "Even though the thread is expensive in 12, Mother managed to buy one just in case someone needed that care. She taught me everything her mother taught her." I put the string through the needles hole and move the thread toward my cut. Slowly, I pluck the sharp point into my pale skin.

I don't want to feel the pain, but it erupts from my skin, crawling up my throat, and flies from my mouth. I cry out with pain, trying to steady my shaking hand. I let the string run under my skin, getting ready to make another puncture with the needle. Another cry of pain, I don't know how the injured at the Seam managed this. The nerves on my skin scream, the redness of the punctures flame out, spreading the pain. I have to sew the rest, I have to stop the bleeding. The pain will be worth it. Again and again, I lead the needle through my cut. My cries of pain are simmered to a whisper as I get used to the pain. Peeta had grabbed my free hand, the bruised one imprinted with Clove's shoe heel.

The cut is now replaced with a thick inflamed line, with blue thread lacing it together. My pain is over, for now. I let out a smile, followed by a laugh. Rue is chuckling along with me, the worry of my death has passed, and now realief has flowed in. I unroll my pant leg, covering the injury. Rue has the parachute shell in her small hands, she clutched it with her life. It was the object that saved my life, she must be greatful.

The fact that I am sewn up, down not mean that I can walk. I am utterly useless, Peeta will have to carry me. This will mean traveling shorter distances. I let out a sigh, and let my head rest against the fallen tree. "We should move, somewhere more...hidden." I hear Fern whisper to Peeta. They are the oldest here, they have to make the decisions. "We're out in the open, the Careers can probably see us from a mile away. We need coverage, and protection. Some place near food and water, but not close to any tributes. Besides us, there are 6 others. The Gamemakers want a show, and they'll get one. We need to travel away from the Cornucopia area, The Careers always take the Cornucopia after the bloodbath." Fern rambles on and on about a game plan, her voice becoming a gentle hum. My head feels like its spinning, my stomach is twisting and pulling inside my stomach.

"Guys...I don't feel too good...I think I've lost too much blood..." I mutter under my breath, I feel like my lips can't form any words, just whisper syllables. Rue is too far, she can't hear me. I crash my head against the log, letting all my muscles go weak. I can drift to sleep now, I can feel that confirming in my head. The sentence echoes in my head, I can go to sleep. I don't question how long, or if I may wake. I let the darkness take me into the tide, and hope I'll let myself stick my head above for a second to breathe.

**Part 14**

"She has to be alright...right?" I hear Rue's voice echo. My mind instantly snaps awake, I can't stand to have her think I'm dead, not again. I snap my head up, flickering open my eyes. It is dark, the middle of the night possibly. "Where are we?" I ask, my raw throat making my lips feel like I'm speaking blood.

"In a cave, by the river. It's close, but not too close to the Cornucopia.. I covered the opening of the cave with moss and leaves, I blended them in with the surrounding coverage, so we can't be found." Fern reports to me. I snap my eyes at her, I know she said something, I just can't piece the words together. Cave. Good Prim, what came after that. Cornucopia. No, no Cornucopia. . The grass is stained with blood there, screams have been silenced, pleads have been ignored. No, no. I shake my head, craddling my head on my hands, covering my ears. "No. No, no no." I mutter, shaking my head, trying to chase away a bad dream.

I feel warm arms craddle my body, Peeta. The unique smell of coals and grain are masked in his hair, I can hear the crunch of the bread crust, the smell erupting from the skin. My stomach growls as I am held. I ignore it, I must contain this flame of happiness. I never know when I can feel it again. Fern clears her throat, I open my eyes. She looks at me dearingly, stroking my hair that has been pulled from its side braid. She whispers to Peeta, "We need to get food. From the past few days that she has been knocked out, we've run low."

"Has anyone died?" I ask, my voice sounding weak. Fern snaps her eyes at me, never has she looked more like a fox than now. Her wide eyes as she looks at me, huge pupils from the darkness, slim nose, her red hair down over her ears. "Foxface." I whisper under my breath.

"One has died. From District 10, the male." She adds, after a second of hesitation. "Foxface was my nickname back at home, it brings up memories, please don't call me that." I nod my head, my hair rubbing against Peeta's chest. I can hear his heart beat. It feels so slow compared to mine. Bum, dom, bum, dom, bum dom. It's peaceful, the constant reminder that Peeta is alive. Peeta has kept me alive countless times, gifting me with extra loafes of bread as I walk past their backery. He greeted me with a smile, saying to tell Katniss he said hi. I shake away the thoughts and move away from Peeta, dragging my leg with me.

I realize that the pain has dulled down. I roll up my pant leg and let my finger tips rub against the almost smooth surface. It is the District 3 invention, the miracle healing thread. They sent it to the Capitol, and a Capitol citizen sent it to me. There is no more bleeding, only bit of pain. I am a healed girl, I am no longer useless, I can help. "I want to help with the gathering." I say, not looking away from my stitches. "I am healed." I point to the line, pushing my hair behind my ears.

I hear Rue shift toward me, her warm hands clasp around my hair. I feel her nimble fingers braid my hair into a tight braid that will last, beads of hair won't thread out like they did before. When Rue is finished, I clasp my hand around hers, "Thank you." I say.

"I don't mind having you with me." Rue says. "For the gathering." I look at Peeta for confirmation. He looks at Fern, who looks back with the same facial expression. They think together, I have noticed. The look to each other before giving an idea or agreement. I look at their hands, interlocked with boney fingers. I snap my eyes away, but Fern has noticed my gaze. I give her a smile, she smiles back, but not as warm as mine. Peeta looks at us and speaks, "We can all go, our cave is hidden enough. We can leave supplies here." Fern gets up, and walks to the enterance of the cave. She peaks her head out from the moss and other coverage. The light seeping through the new hole is blinding, my eyes burn. Fern looks back at us, and nods. No one is coming, no one is near. Peeta gets up, following Fern as she crawl out of the entrance. Rue gets up with me in unison, I still clutch her hand tightly in mine. Together we sink out of the darkness and into the light.

"Prim and I can go this way." I hear Peeta speak, I look at him. His plan, one adult, and one kid. No one gets lost, no one gets worried. He looks at Fern for confirmation, she knods her head, and walks with Rue toward the other way. Peeta walks loudly, his feet trudge, and rumble against the ground. I thank God that the ground is soft and slide under his footing, there won't be as much noise than there could. An apricot tree is to my right, the branches are low enough for me to jump, and climb. I look to Peeta, "I'll climb this tree, maybe you could go get berries from those bushes?" I ask, hoping he says yes. He nods, and watches as I jog to the tree, and start scaling the tree.

"Don't hurt yourself." I hear him say when I am half way up the tree. Apricot after apricot, I gather as many as I can into my jacket and pant pockets. I rest my body on a fork of a branch, letting my head rest on another branch. I am thin, the tiny branches at the top that hold the brightest fruit, can hold my weight.

I fill my mouth with some Apricots, knowing that will please my growling stomach. My chewing stops when I hear it. It echoes through my brain a million times, yet doesn't make sence. The processing of this sound isn't from blood loss, I am in denile. I will not accept this new fact that has approached me. My jaw has dropped when I hear the souless ring, of the cannon.

"Peeta?" I ask. I am not far from the bushes, maybe I can see his soft blonde head moving, and know he is alright. There is no movement. "Peeta?" I ask again, louder than the first. Again, no answer. Letting all the apricots drop, I fling myself from branch to branch, racing my self to get to him first. "Peeta!" I yell, letting my lungs burn. I am up to the bushes now, my stitches burn, I must have ripped them open. I don't care. I turn the corner, and stiffle a scream.

A pale hand of the sweet baker, holding an open palm of blue Nightlock berries.

**Part 15**

The hovercraft winds and tears all blend, I could have punched the Gamemakers, I could have made them keep Peeta with us. I couldn't though. Peeta is dead.

The sentence rings in my head, a combination of words I haven't tried yet. It feels like poison. There are footsteps behind me, Fern. "I came as fast as I could when I heard the cannon. Are you alright?" she asks, her voice filled with panic. She scans my eyes, I nod, unable to speak to her. She looks around me, trying to find the other blonde. "Where...where's Peeta...?" Her voice drifts as she sinks everything into place. The cannon, how I stand alone, the tears on my cheeks.

Her face goes in stages. First, disbelief. Her eye flicker around the leaves of the bushes, thinking maybe Peeta is playing hide and seek. She searches my face, the tears, seeing if they're real. If this is truly reality. Second, realization. Her eyes stop searching the grass, she sees the stray berries. It has to click into place, no matter how harsh. The third stage, the most hard to look at, breaking down. Every little shard of hope that maybe it was a mistake that she heard the cannon. The hope is gone. She is only left to have her hands come to her head, blocking her ears from the cruel reality. Her cheeks go soft, her jaw unclenched. Her eyes start to squint has she's trying to blink back the tears. She slides her body down the trunk of the Apricot tree, her whole body conforming to a box. Her head rests on her knees, her whole body shaking.

I hear Rue's footsteps, she walks with caution as she sees Fern on the ground. She doesn't give a question, she sits next to Fern, and raps her arm around her shoulders. Her soft hair acts as a cushion for Fern's face. Tears stream down her soft cheeks, red stained in her eyes. I look away from her, I can't bare to see another living soul cry. There is too much grief, too many tears. The arena is enough, it has taken more than needed. It didn't need to take Peeta.

I gather the dropped Apricots and gather them back into the jacket pockets. I walk past them softly, seeing that both of them have their eyes closed. I can't bare to see them. "I'll be in the cave." I say colder than expected. I walk slowly to the cave, observing the little things I didn't when I walked with Peeta. The falling cherry blossoms that are pure pink compared to the mud. There are squirrels that crawl in the trees, you can see them if you're quiet enough, and don't scare them off. There are bird songs also, they all repeat back to each other a beautiful tone. It echoes as each bird carries their part, over, and over their sad song of high notes.

Katniss had told me about them. Mockingjays. They are products from the war with District 13. When the Capitol had made birds that could copy long phrases of words, Jabberjays. They sent them to District 13, innocent birds that no one would mind. The birds would copy their plans, then repeat them back to the Capitol. This was District 13's down fall, it was destroyed. Thats how the Hunger Games were made. The Jabberjays were no longer in need, the Capitol sent them into the wild. They mated with the Mockingbird, and the new bird of Mockingjay was created. The Mockingjay looked like a Mockingbird, but could repeat song notes. Long song notes, longer than any song I could think of from District 12.

There are Mockingjays in the arena, they are the birds that sing to me. I wait for their song to patter out, setting myself on a tree stomp, and letting my mouth eat the ripe fruit. Their song has ended, they wait for a person to inspire them. I swallow my mouth full of fruit, and whistle a six note tone, one I made out of the top of my head. The birds repeat it back to me, other birds repeating off of them. Soon they sing a more beauitful tone the one I had sung to them. Beautiful mist of notes that decend upon me, whistful grace of melody.

The song lets the memory of dead Peeta soon leave my mind, yet the tone is so beautiful, I can only cry. Cry for everything. Everything is pilling over my walls, it's overflowing, the walls are going to crash down upon me, unless I build stronger walls. Yet I cry, streams of the saltly liquid drip off my chin, and land on the soft skin of the fruit. I can't stop crying, I let my throat become raw, the rock in my stomach get bigger.

That's when I hear it, the beeping again. A parachute beep. Another donation for a sponser? I dry away my tears, so I can snag the parachute from the branches. The shinning metal that holds my mystery gift reflects the gleaming sun. I smile and open the donation. Right when I touch the soft skin, I know it's from Haymitch. Soft orange, like the sunset. It was Peeta's favorite color. Tears start streaming when the word "was" rings in my head. The orange cake rests inside the parachute, I dare to only eat it when Fern and Rue get back. For now, I clip the parachute shut, and walk with tears.

Peeta was eating the soft orange mini cake on the train, the orange backpack I got from the Bloodbath is orange, the cakes he would decorate were orange. The would watch him pipe white frosting onto the orane cake through the fog stacked on the backery windows.

When I reach the cave covering, only one question ringed in my head, "Could I have saved Peeta?"


End file.
